


Pink Roses, Lilac Armor

by Wytchkiin



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Healing, Romance, Sisters of Battle, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wytchkiin/pseuds/Wytchkiin
Summary: In the grim darkness of the 42nd Millennium, there is only war.There is no peace among the stars, only the cruel laughter of thirsting gods.And yet, even in this dark future, love can still be found amongst the endless carnage.In the Grim Darkness of the Far Future, there is War.But there is also Hope.Sister Celeste of the militant Order of the Weeping Rose is called on a Crusade, alongside the Black Templar Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes. Along the way, she meets Sister Ophelia, an alluring but reclusive Sister of the same order. Can love flourish, even through the trials of Chaos?
Comments: 9
Kudos: 33





	1. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Celeste loses someone and meets a stranger.

+++++++++

The dust was settling across the battlefield as I lowered my bolter. I breathed a sigh of relief as the last few shots of lasfire rang out, and all was quiet. I looked out across the vast expanse of desert before me. Serrax III was designated a Deathworld by the Administratum, and the brief few weeks of the campaign here had proved it. We had lost several Sisters just to the native fauna alone - although Serrax III was completely a desert, save a few habitable kilometres at the poles, it was teeming with life. All of it was actively hostile to humanity. I saw my targets - five dead heretics, their remains barely recognizable. The bolter shells had done their jobs, almost too well. I gave a brief prayer to the Emperor, thanking him for my continued survival and for him to bless this thrice-damned world. I slid down the ancient wreckage of the Chimera that I had been using as cover. It was a fortunate enough thing. My squad had been on patrol outside of the camp, and ambushed by a group of cultists. The traitors hadn’t been able to do much to us, and for that I was thankful. I looked over my new friend, the Chimera. It still had the familiar lines of a blessed machine, but it had been silent for decades, at least judging by the rust. Piles of sand had blown against one side, and all the fabric inside it had rotted away. Most machines ended up this way on Serrax. A Chimera or a Leman Russ that was destroyed was rarely recovered here and the husks of the holy technology were left to rot, given to the harsh gods of the desert. I said another prayer, this time for the machine spirit of the destroyed vehicle. I wasn’t sure how much good such prayers really did for the machine, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. At least it would keep some cogboy happy, I supposed. I heard the footsteps of armored feet against the sand, and raised my bolter.

“It’s only me, Celeste!” a familiar voice said. I couldn’t help grinning behind my helmet.

“You oughta say something before you sneak up on an armed and adrenaline fueled Sister, Amaya.”

Amaya laughed behind her helmet. I could imagine the smile on her face, the way her eyes twinkled as she laughed. Amaya reached up to her helmet and undid the seals as she removed it, saying a benediction to the machine spirit of her powered armor. She shook out her long, sky-blue hair and fixed her eyes on me. I felt my spine tingle uncontrollably - Amaya always had that effect on me. Her green eyes were mesmerizing, and I couldn’t help but get lost in them. She was so beautiful, so good, so -  
“Terra to Celeste,” she said, snapping her fingers in my face. “You were staring at me.”

I shook my head and snapped out of it.

“You can’t just… look at me like that! You know the effect you have!” I said, blushing. I quickly removed my helmet, nearly forgetting to intone the brief prayers of unsealing.

“I know I do, but you could at least try to pretend you’re not desperately in love with me,” she teased, giggling. She reached out a hand to cup my cheek, and ran her thumb over the fleur-de-lys tattooed under my eye. She came closer, her face centimeters from mine. I could feel her breath on my lips as she pulled me in for a kiss and -

Suddenly, the world exploded. My eyes were filled with red and Amaya fell forward, into my arms. I held her as tight as I could, falling with her. I was covered in blood, staining my lilac armor and white robes. Amaya was gone, her face a ruin of blood and bone. I screamed her name -

I shook my head, pushing the memory out of my mind. We were sparring, at the convent, and I needed to focus. Sister Eunice was coming at me with her powersword, and I lifted mine to meet it. The blades clashed with a satisfying clang, and we both drew back. We had a peculiar way of sparring on Lachrymose III. Each Sister, in turn, would attempt to score a point against the Champion - the point being a lethal blow, had the powerswords not been set to sparring mode. When a challenger scored a point, they would become the new Champion. Most girls were able to stay Champion for two or three bouts, but this was bout six. Sister Eunice came at me again, and I dodged to the left, bringing my blade down, gently, on the back of her neck as she missed. She bowed and gave the sign of the Aquila, and I returned the gesture. I fought through challengers seven and eight well enough, but by nine I was exhausted. Ten was Sister Cornelia, who was a better duelist than I. I managed to hold my own against her for a few minutes, but I missed a step and her blade stuck its point into my breast, right over my heart. I bowed and conceded, and sat down next to the rest of my defeated Sisters. Tabitha, herself ousted after two bouts, slapped me on the back.

“You did good, Cel. You gotta teach me that trick you used on Eunice.” She said. Tabitha was a small girl, with mousy features and brown hair that was cut in a neat bob. She wore large, wire-framed glasses that were several centimeters thick. I smiled and promised to show her later. I turned my eyes back to the fights in front of me. I was lucky that I had gone near the end - I would only have to wait a little while for the sparring to be over. Some girls had to sit for hours while the rest of us finished sparring. Still, watching and learning was its own kind of practice. Many girls had a keen eye for picking up forms from their Sisters, and a lot of them used a mix of styles picked up from different worlds. One bout was particularly clever - a girl over extended her thrust, and her opponent grabbed her wrist and put the powersword to the back of her neck. The girls sparred for another twenty minutes, and the winner was a girl I was only passingly familiar with - Sister Octavia. There were over a hundred girls in our convent, so getting to know all of them was a bit tricky. Still, with her long black hair and doe-eyes, Sister Octavia looked like the kind of girl I would like to know better.

After sparring practice was individual prayer. I had always liked individual prayer, ever since I was a novice. The convent was big - big enough that you could find a nice secluded area all to yourself. My spot was in the garden of the courtyard. A stone path led through it, and it was full of roses. Our convent was famous among our Order for our flowers - they were the envy of our whole sector. They were a special breed of rose, bright pink in coloration. Many of the other convents had asked for cuttings of our roses, but they had all wilted in the soil. The rumor among the convent was that our soil was watered by a spring where Saint Euphemia, our founder, had bathed.

I found my secret spot - a little natural alcove in the hedges, with a fountain standing in it. In the center of the fountain was a statue of Saint Euphemia, and it was from her eyes that the water flowed into the fountain. It was a feat of engineering, I had to admit - some clever enginseer had rigged the piping such that the pipes were hidden in the tear ducts of the statue, and it looked very much like the Saint was weeping. I looked up at her face, and felt comforted by her. She was like a mother to me, as she was to all of my Sisters here, but I felt a special affinity for her. The statue was extremely lifelike, carved in grey stone. Her hair fell in tresses and curls that still amazed me, and the expression on her face was one of not only sorrow, but understanding. It was if she knew what was in my heart, and wept for me.

I knelt down in the grass at the base of the statue and began to pray. I started with the Emperor’s Prayer, as I always did, and the well-practiced words poured from my lips like the flowing water of the fountain. My mind began to wander. It had been three years since Serrax. I’d been taken off of active duty afterwards and had remained stuck at the Convent. I’d applied for re-deployment but each time Canoness Tertia had denied my request. I couldn’t remember how many times I’d tried, trying to join one of the many missions our Convent accepted. For three years I’d been here, training, helping the other girls, but always a denial. Even Charlotte, my former Sister Superior, had been baffled by it. My situation had been very unique, sure. I mean, having your girlfriend’s brains splattered all over your face isn’t something you get over easily but by the Emperor, I was a Sister of Battle. I needed to be out there, serving Him on Terra. There were lots of girls here who were maintaining relationships. It wasn’t necessarily encouraged, but it was good to know that even if you were going through the Warp, at least you had someone who truly and deeply cared for you. I lost track of my prayers, and chastised myself for getting so lost in thought. How could I serve the Emperor like this? Maybe the Canoness had a point - maybe I wasn’t fit for active duty like this. One moment of distraction like that on a battlefield, and you could end up dead. Or worse. I shuddered at the thought and prayed that when I fell, it wasn’t horrible. A bolt-shell in the chest maybe, or a swift decapitation. There were always stories, stories of Sisters corrupted by the Ruinous Powers, Sisters transformed into nightmarish creatures, not themselves anymore. I prayed for His protection, on me and all of my Sisters. I prayed that he had taken Amaya’s soul into his arms, away from this world of pain. I was so lost in thought and prayer that I hardly registered the sound of footfalls coming up the path. Two people, I guessed, deep in conversation. I turned and saw the Canoness with a stranger I had never seen before. 

The Canoness was wearing the simple white robes of our Order, trimmed with silver. She had a broach of the Weeping Rose - a pink rose surrounded by five stars. Her hair was tied back in a bun, and her austere face was turned towards the stranger. The stranger himself towered over her, his flint-colored eyes looking down at the Canoness, who looked positively diminutive next to him. He was nearly three meters tall, with a bald head and some sort of augmetic plate coming out of the back of his skull, wires trailing into his black robes. Over the robes he had a white surplice, marked with a strange black cross. He was nodding at something the Canoness was saying, when he turned and saw me. His face was kind, but battle-scarred, and he gave me a strange sort of sad smile as they approached. I immediately jumped to my feet, bowing my head and giving the sign of the Aquila.

“The Emperor protects!” I said as they reached me. They returned the gesture.

“The Emperor protects,” said the man.

The Canoness nodded, and said “Sister Celeste, our apologies for interrupting your prayers. Brother Artus and I were just taking a stroll through the convent.”

Brother Artus stuck out his hand and said, “It is good to meet you, Sister.”

I took his hand, gingerly. It looked like that of a child in his grasp, and I began to really process just how massive an Astarte really was. His whole being was larger than life, his shoulders as broad as I was tall. I knew then why they were called the Angels of the Emperor.

+++++++++

“But why would an Astarte be here, of all places?” Tabitha asked. The sun was just beginning to set, and we had all gathered for our evening meal. Today it was simple, some bread and some grox meat, although we were all given a glass of wine. It was fortunate that Lachrymose III was a fertile agri-world, as well as an Imperial shrine-world, as we were blessed with the occasional indulgence. The Order of the Weeping Rose had a reputation of being rather soft compared to other offshoots of the Sacred Rose. What we lacked in austerity, however, we made up for in our fanatical devotion to the God-Emperor. There were more martyrs from our Order than any of the other Ordos Minoris, and many miracles that had been recorded were attributed to Sisters of the Weeping Rose. Still, we were small, just five convents in total, scattered across as many worlds. Our Convent, the Convent of Saint Euphemia, was the mother convent to the rest and the largest. We maintained just over a hundred Sisters, although the space we had could accommodate the whole Order if need arose. 

Lachrymose III had been blessed in other ways, as well. We were far from any of the major conflict zones, situated deep in the galactic north of the Imperium. We had been untouched by Abbadon and the Fall of Cadia, although we all felt the loss sharply. It had been many years since we had lost reliable contact with Terra - as far as we knew, our Order was mostly on its own. We had sent many Missions, and many had returned mostly intact. It was rare that we had to call for a Tithe, as well, as many nobles of the sector viewed our Order as a very viable path for their daughters. We had our own Schola, on Circuitous Prime, where most of our girls came from.

I turned to Tabitha and gave a shrug

“I’m not sure, maybe he wanted to see our roses.” I said. That got a laugh from the rest of Tabitha’s squad, the innuendo not lost. I usually sat with them, as Tabitha and I had been inducted into the Order at the same time. We’d been squad members, before.

“Maybe he’s an emissary?” chimed in Sister Roxana. She was tall and thin, with bright red hair and dark skin. 

“For whom though? The astartes aren’t known to work for the Ecclesiarchy,” said Eunice, her long golden hair tied into a braid that went over one shoulder. She was a bit too cold and logical, but what she lacked in personability she more than made up for with her Flamer. “Besides, we haven’t had much contact with Terra considering it’s nearly impossible to get to now.”

A solemn quietude came over the table as we were reminded of just how separated we were from the rest of the Imperium. It was one thing to be unable to cross the galaxy, but it was another to feel outside of the Light of the Emperor. Frequently, navigators had difficulties charting effective courses and astropaths had difficulties navigating warpspace in our sector. We had lost one of our ships, the _Seraphic Beauty_ , several years ago and hadn’t heard from her since.

As if to break the tension, the Canoness rose from where she was seated at the front of the room. Her table was set on a dais, and she was surrounded by the other officers. I saw Sister Charlotte among the crowd, and on her face I saw a look of grim determination. It was not infrequent that the Canoness would speak at supper, but it was usually reserved for special feasts. _Or important announcements_ , I thought.

The Canoness cleared her throat. “Good evening, Sisters. The Emperor protects.” She said, and we responded as one. She nodded sagely, and continued.

“There are many things that we, as Daughters of the Emperor, are called to do. We are to be noble, valiant, and strong examples to all of Mankind. We are to protect His people, shepherd them, help them to see His Light. And sometimes, we are called to do more unpleasant things. We have a responsibility to purge the unclean. Kill the mutant. Burn the heretic. And we are to give our lives up to the Emperor in glorious service. It is about this that we must now turn our attention. As many of you know, we have a visitor. Please, come in Brother Artus.”

Artus came into the room, looking as much a Space Marine as he did an Angel of the Emperor. He was clad in his power armor, all black, with the same insignia I had seen on his surplice inscribed on the pauldron.

“This is Brother Artus, Castellan of the Black Templars. He has an important message for all of us.” She nodded, and Artus stepped forward. His face looked different to the one I had seen this afternoon - his sad kindness was replaced by a grim sternness as he delivered his message.

“I must thank you, Canoness Tertia, for this opportunity to speak. I thank all of you for your hospitality, and I thank the Emperor for your blessed convent.” He bowed his head. After a moment, he resumed.  
“As a Castellan of the Black Templars, it is my duty to help oversee the Crusades that our Chapter embarks upon. Right now, we are in delicate times. The Enemies of the Imperium are everywhere - and everywhere Mankind is suffering. My superior, Marshal Gustavus, has called for a Crusade in the Gothic Sector, near the Cicatrix Maledictum.”

A hushed gasp went up from the assembled Sisters.

“The goal of our Crusade is to forge a path back to the Segmentum Solar, so that there is a safe path between here and the rest of the Imperium. To this end, Canoness Tertia has agreed to assemble your Order to join us in righteous battle against the Heretic and the Enemy. Within the week, the first of your Sisters should be joining us here. My Brothers will be joining us as well. We are looking to be trained and to ship out within the next two standard months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's Chapter 1. I don't know how long this fic will go - I'll try to keep updating it as I can. Eventually there'll be more romance, I promise. For now, I hope you enjoyed Celeste being useless and a nice quick sample of Black Templar.
> 
> I know I did.


	2. Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Celeste doesn't eat, shoots, and leaves.

**+++++++++**

Incense filled the whole church as we waited in assembly to receive our Sisters from the other convents. It was completely bedecked in gold, banners of our order hanging from the eves of the high roof. Everywhere there were flowers, and a gentle snow of petals fell from above, distributed by cherubim. They had been a gift from the Marshal, Gustavus, who had seen fit to send Brother Artus with some supplies for the reception. I was standing towards the front, farthest from the doors, directly across from a stained glass window depicting a Saint dispatching some sort of foul creature. The effect of the display, along with the soft music provided by our choir of Sisters, was enrapturing. I began to sink into a blissful peacefulness when the Sisters of the other four convents began to process in. At the head of the column was a Celestian, carrying a holy reliquary. Behind her were the four other Canonesses, and behind them was the whole host of sisters. In all, we numbered just less than five-hundred.

Canoness Tertia stepped down from the altar, as she embraced and gave a kiss of peace to each of her fellow Canonesses, who then joined her on the platform. She began to speak, but as she did so I gazed over our guests. A sea of lilac and silver, assembled for the first time in centuries. The choir began another hymn, and the voices of hundreds of Sisters from a hundred worlds rose to join them. As the last of the Order came in, the great wooden doors, carved with a figure of the Emperor in his Golden Throne, closed behind them. The cherubim above us flew down to hover, gracefully, behind the Canonesses. Tertia stepped forward, adorned in golden power armor as befitting her station, and began to welcome them. Her voice was slow, melodic almost. She began with a prayer, that we all intoned along with her. As I brought my head back up from the prayer, a single Sister caught my eye. She was in the center of the crowd - from her placement, I guessed she was from the convent on Antomina. Her dark hair was braided into a single plait that she had thrown over her shoulder, and her face was delicate but fierce. As I looked at her, she turned her head and stared directly at me. I looked down, embarassed, but not before my gaze had caught hers. A shiver went up my spine as she transfixed me with her green eyes.

Finally, Canoness Tertia finished her welcoming speech, and she began another hymn as we began to process out of the church. At the back, I silently chastised myself for not listening to her speech. I asked the Emperor for forgiveness as we filed into the great hall for the feast. The Canoness had given the Cellarer permission to use the finest of foods, and for once the Cellarer had no reason to complain. She was always an argumentative woman, who fussed about us if we did not eat enough - and she frequently requested foods that the Canoness denied. At the feast there was whole roast grox, and fresh vegetables, and fine desserts, and everything that we Sisters would hope for on Sanguinala. Tertia had also given permission that a few casks of a premium vintage be opened, to be consumed with moderation of course. The din of nearly five hundred excited Daughters of the Emperor was cacophonous as I came into the hall. I was hoping there were some grox ribs left as I made my way into the room. I looked around, and my eye caught Tabitha and our old squad, sitting and talking and enjoying the feast. Something inside me turned, and I suddenly felt downcast. They had all been standing together, of course. The formation in the church meant that squads were all together and I was alone, squadless. I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

The corridors back to the dormitory were completely silent as I made the trek back to my quarters. It felt strange to be the only one in them - usually, even at this time of night, there were Sisters reading or praying in one of the alcoves. I would have appreciated even to meet a Sister on her way somewhere. Just somebody to help ease the loneliness I felt. I missed Amaya. That day on Serrax had changed everything. I’d lost all my squadmates. I’d even lost my bunk - I was moved to an empty room after being unassigned from their squad. They’d all drifted away from me over time. I rarely was able to have a conversation with them - even Tabitha had been distant lately. Now, with the Crusade, they were training together whereas I was always stuck with either individual training, or as a fill-in for a missing Sister. I hadn’t even received any assignment orders. I began to sniffle, and then cry. Tears rolled down my face, hot and wet. I tried to stifle a sob, more out of reflex than anything else. I brought my arms up to hold myself, and realized that I was still wearing my armor. I wiped away my tears, and turned down a corridor to the armory. I walked past an alcove and saw a ghost. I stopped, and peered back around the corner. A girl was sitting there, still in powered armor, crying. She looked up at me with her green eyes.

“Are you alright? You’re crying,” I said, trying to keep my voice as sympathetic as possible.

“Thank you for pointing it out,” said the girl I had been so drawn to at the ceremony. She sniffled, and said “I’m sorry, that was a little rude. But I see you’ve been crying too.”

I blushed. My eyes must’ve still been red. 

“Why are you not at the feast?” I asked, regretting the question as it fell from my lips.

“Same reason as you, I suppose - not much of a party person,” she said as she gave out a dark chuckle.

“Me neither. I was just heading to the armory to put this armor back. Care to join me?”

She looked up at me with those big eyes of hers. Up close, I could see her face in more detail. Even after crying, she looked immaculate. Her face was round, more cute than beautiful, and with her hair down I could see that it fell past her shoulders.

She nodded as she wiped her nose. I blushed again. She smiled, the most beautiful smile I had seen. Slack-mouthed, I tried to think of something to say, and she must have seen my brain stalling because she said,  
“This armor’s kinda cumbersome, anyways. I’m Ophelia.”

She reached out her hand to shake, and I took it. I felt a tingle in my fingers as I did so.

“Er, I’m Celeste.”

“Well, Sister Celeste, lead the way.” 

**+++++++++**

The bolter gave a satisfying click as it finally ran out of ammunition. We were doing shooting drills this morning, and I’d been relegated to individual target practice. I peered down the range at my target. Most of my shells had hit, and I saw the quartermaster, Sister Irena, give a nod. I wasn’t exactly the best shot in the Order, but I wasn’t half bad. At least I had seen combat. Several of the Sisters were newly initiate - and thus had a hard time even lifting the bolter in power armor. I set my weapon to safe as I turned and walked back to the weapon rack. Another girl took my place in the firing line. I set my bolter in the rack and stretched. Shooting practice had started quite early in the morning, and I was still tired. I wished that I had a cup of recaf, but breakfast always came after morning exercises. The servos in my armor whined with my stretching. I ought to get the power armor serviced soon, but we hadn’t had a visit from an enginseer in over a standard year. Most of the other Sisters found the cogboys rather creepy, but anyone who could keep my armor and weapons in fighting shape was alright in my book. So long as they still had a real face, of course. I’d met one of the Adeptus Mechanicus who had completely replaced their lower jaw with some sort of tubular mechanism - that was creepy. The ones without their own voicebox were creepy too - the same mechanical monotone I’d heard from every admech with a vocal modulator made me wonder if they only had one kind.

Sister Irena came over and offered me a drink from a canteen, which I gratefully accepted. Although the sun hadn’t even nearly reached its zenith, the morning was already hot and humid. We were approaching midsummer on Lachrymose, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“When you’ve finished having a drink, Sister Superior Charlotte needs to speak with you.” Irena said, patiently. She was an older woman, with a streak of grey hair running through auburn. She had it pulled up and away from her face today, in a braided sort of bun. Her face was kind, but she always had a sort of dreamy quality to her, as if she wasn’t completely there. She never raised her voice, even when the novices were not practicing proper bolter safety.

I raised my eyebrow at her. “Why does Lottie need to see me? Isn’t she training with her squad?”

Irena nodded sagely. “She is, but they’re on a break at the moment - Sister Catalina broke a few fingers trying to fire her bolter for the first time. They’re all at the infirmary - except Sister Charlotte, she’s still here on the training grounds somewhere.”

I looked at her, my expression asking _any idea where_? Her shrug was her reply. I sighed. The training grounds were a large sandpit near the edge of the grounds of the Convent. Not that the whole shrine-world of Lachrymose III didn’t belong to the convent, its just that much of the available land was farmed by peasants beholden to us, or run by local rulers who swore us fealty. Unfortunately for me, however, the training grounds were huge. All of us needed to be able to train there, of course, and the architects who had designed them had decided that we should be able to hold the entire Order in every available location. It was fortunate during times like these, where the whole Order was, in fact, in attendance, but right now it was a sheer pain in my ass. I trudged away from Sister Irena, who gave a dreamy wave as I went. I stopped and asked a few Sisters if they knew where Charlotte was, but they didn’t know. I marched up and down various shooting areas, the grenade pits, and the flamer area. I had been searching for twenty minutes and was beginning to give up hope finding her, when I heard a familiar voice from behind me.

“Oi, Cel! Over here, yeh great big grox-fer-brains!”

I turned and saw the familiar face of Charlotte. She had short-cropped hair the color of fire, with a wide smile, and bright, twinkling eyes. It was hard to believe that this was the battle-hardened veteran who had gotten me out of so many scrapes. She opened her arms and we gave a familiar hug. It was hard not to embrace your squad members, even your former squad members. Besides, Lottie was like a big sister to me.

“Holy Terra, I’ve been looking fer yeh everywhere!” she said after she released me from the spine-snapping embrace she deemed a “hug”. “Did Irena - 'course she did. How she became quartermaster when she can’ remember a single thing I’ll never know. I told her that I’d be waiting for you near th' entrance to the grounds, but when you didn’t show up I decided that I needed to come looking fer yeh.” She said.

I groaned in exasperation. From where we were standing, we were just about the furthest point from the entrance as we possibly could be.

“Oh well,” she said. She turned, and gestured that I should follow her. Before I could open my mouth to ask what this was about, she spoke again.

“I got a message over vox about an hour ago from the Canoness. She told me that she wanted to see yeh.”

“See me?” I asked. “But why would she need to see me? I don’t think I’ve done anything lately worth disciplining. I mean, I failed a cleaning inspection the other day but -” she lifted a hand to cut me off.

“I’m not sure either, Cel. Thas' what has me worried. She rarely does anything directly, and her wanting to see a regular Sister is unusual. Usually, she’d have some sort of intermediary like me give yeh the message, but she said that she wanted to see yeh personally.”

Confused, I continued to follow my former squad leader. It was strange. We hadn’t been able to talk much over the past few years. Most of the time, she was away on a mission with her squad, and in-between missions there was hardly time to catch up. Luckily, the walk back to the Convent was a couple of kilometers, so she filled me in on how her service to the Emperor had been going. Her and the squad had just returned from a mission on a hiveworld, rooting out a heretical cult. It hadn’t been particularly exciting, she told me. Apparently, it was just a couple of rich kids dressing up and drinking wine. Hadn’t stopped the Sisters from busting in and sending all of them to the Emperor, mind. That was the troubling thing about these heretic gatherings - it may seem like it was just some revelers having fun, but soon one thing would lead to another and suddenly there’s a whole war over who controls the fate of the planet. That’s when it gets ugly. Still, I prayed that their souls would not fall into the clutches of the Ruinous Powers. Not that it would help anything. If they were really heretics, their souls would be food for daemons or some other horror of the Warp. Such were the dangers of Chaos worship.

The Convent was upon us before we knew it, its tall spires rising up before us like a whale breaching from the sea. Lottie gave me a sign of the Aquila, and apologized for having to leave so soon. I returned the gesture, and gave her another hug before she left. Then I was all alone again. I trudged into the Convent, and down the corridor that lead to the Canoness’ offices. She lived on the north side of the Convent, which was convenient as that was the closest side to the training grounds. Thank the Emperor for small favors. Unfortunately, her offices were up several flights of stairs and there most certainly wasn’t a lift, thank you very much. I was glad I was wearing my armor - the additional boost of mechanical assistance was extremely beneficial in preserving my stamina. Still, by the time I reached the top I was wishing for a drink of water.

The door to the Canoness’ offices was made of a thick, dark wood that I wasn’t sure was native to the Lachrymose system. It was reinforced with what looked like black iron, and was finished with a heavy iron handle. It didn’t look like the door to a woman who oversaw the operations of a whole Convent of the Adepta Sororitas, but then again Tertia had never quite enjoyed the ostentatious decor that most of the Ecclesiarchy enjoyed. She kept her faith simple, and simple were her things. I knocked on the door and heard her say “ _Enter!_ ”, her strong voice coming clearly through the heavy door. I came in and closed the door behind me. She was sitting at her desk, writing something on a dataslate. Her office was mostly bare, save for an icon of Saint Euphemia in one corner and a bookshelf on the wall to my right, her left. She gestured for me to sit down without looking up from her work. I sat quietly in the chair that was right in front of her desk, the only other piece of furniture I could see. She kept working quietly for a few more minutes while I squirmed in my seat.

“Do you need to use the lavatory, Sister Celeste?” she asked, again without looking up.

“No, Canoness. I’m just…”

“Nervous? Happens to the best of us,” she said as she finally put the dataslate away and looked up at me. She transfixed me with her grey eyes, like those of a hawk. Her face was stern and pointed. Her dark black hair was streaked with grey, and she had pulled it back into a bun. She looked no older than fifty, but by my guess of how long she had been Canoness here she must have been well over a century old. The wonders of juvenat treatments, I suppose.

I chuckled at her statement, and she continued.

“I suppose I should tell you why I’ve invited you all the way up to my office. I have an assignment for you, you see.” As she said this, she pulled a scroll from her desk and handed it to me. “These are your orders. Castellan Artus wished to assemble a bodyguard of five of our Sisters, one from each Convent. I have decided to make you our representative.”

My mind was swirling with a thousand thoughts. _Why me? Why was I trusted with such an assignment? Why now?_

The Canoness raised her hand as if to quiet me. “I know what you’re thinking right now. In fact, it was the Castellan himself who specifically requested you. I explained to him your history, but he seemed insistent. I’m sorry, but I don’t know more than that. And I have something else I should say to you, as well,” she said. I tilted my head.

“You have been out of active duty for three years, by my order. I must apologize. I knew how close you and Sister Amaya were, and I wanted you to have some time away from your duties. I see now that I have waited longer than I ought to have.”  
I nodded my head. It still hurt, sometimes, to hear others say Amaya’s name. We had trained together, joined the Order together, loved together, and nobody could really understand what we had.

“Thank you, ma’am. It means a lot that you would humble yourself so for my sake.”

She gave a small, sad smile. “I thank the Emperor every day that you are still with us, Celeste. It may not seem like it, but I do care for each and every one my girls here.”

There was something sweet in the way she said “ _my girls_ ” - like a mother. At the Convent, most of us were Schola orphans and had never known our parents. Perhaps Tertia was, in a way, fulfilling that same kind of mother’s love that most of us were missing. We sat in silence for a few moments, before she shook her head and gave a brushing gesture with her hand.

“You’re dismissed, Sister Celeste. Make certain you read your Orders - your active duty starts tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh lordy i nearly had this one uploaded late
> 
> remind me to actually get things done next time
> 
> also: lesbians. gotta love 'em.


	3. Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Celeste meets her new leader.

I woke early - much earlier than was usual for our Order. Normally we were up at sunrise, but by my guess it was nearly three hours before that. I got up from my bunk and shook my head. I was still drowsy. I hadn’t been able to sleep much and when it came it was restless. I lugged myself out of bed, and got dressed. I left my quarters and walked down the hall. It was as it had been during the feast, but somehow the darkness cast everything into twisted shadows. As a child I was afraid of the darkness, but now it gave some comfort. In the darkness, nobody could see you. In the darkness, there was warmth and rest and the embrace of another. Light was hard. Light was too bright. In the light, things happened. Time seemed to stand still in the dark.

The shower was warm, cleansing the sweat and grime of sleep and the previous day. I wiped the fog off of the mirror and took a hard look at my reflection. A pair of sad, tired grey eyes stared back at me. I brushed my hair with my comb, and set it into a braid. Easier to put up that way. There were technical regulations stating that we needed to keep our hair cut rather short, but the Canoness had decided that specific regulation was nonsense - if you could fit your hair in your helmet, you could keep it. Small blessings of femininity, I guess. I finished drying off and dressed again. I had my formal robes today, regular robes seemed inappropriate. Not that the formal robes differed much save for the trim and the cut of the gown, but the effort would be noticed. I hoped. I was struggling to decide what to do now. I could try to go back to bed, but after my morning ablutions it seemed both a bad idea and impossible. I was firmly awake at this point, so I decided to go down to the great hall to see if any breakfast was being served.

The great hall was quiet as a tomb. All the joy and frivolity from the feast had escaped with the revelers, the hall empty save for the tables and benches. Not a soul stirred in the quiet gloom of the early morning. I sighed and sat down and a bench. I laid my head on the table, questions whirring through my mind. Why had Artus chosen me, specifically? What value did I bring to his personal bodyguard? Shouldn’t an Astarte be capable of protecting himself? Echoes ran through my brain, with no clear nor logical answers coming. I must have dozed off at some point, because when I lifted my head the pale morning light was coming through the windows of the hall. It was a grey, cloudy day. It might rain. I stretched my legs under the table and stood - no sense in waiting anymore. I was to report at dawn, and it was dawn enough, I supposed. I yawned, and walked out of the hall.

The great black ship of the Astartes wasn’t difficult to find. It loomed above everything in the vicinity of the landing pad, dwarfing the warehouses and technical buildings whose purposes were obscure to me. It was usually civilians or Planetary Defense who ran operations on the airfield. I was surprised to find that there were no guards posted, but I supposed that the Astartes had posted their own. Astartes. The word felt strange. It was a word that, until a few days ago, had only been theoretical in my mind. Their great height and imposing presence struck a chord of fear within my soul. They were… unnatural, to say the least. Similar to, but wholly different from, the cogboys I’d met. They were beings different, apart from humanity, above it. Was it blasphemy to say I almost hated them? I asked forgiveness from the Emperor as I approached the open cargo doors. Standing just a short ways up the ramp I could see one - an Astarte, clad in his night black power armor, emblazoned on the pauldron with the odd looking cross I had seen Brother Artus wearing. He had his helmet on, with its horrible pig-like snout and glowing red eyes.

“Halt,” he said, as he raised a hand to stop me. “You are forbidden to enter unless otherwise given permission.”

I nodded and produced the scroll that the Canoness had given me. “These are my orders. I was bid to come here at dawn. I’m Sister Celeste.”

The Astarte took the scroll and looked it over, checking the multiple seals that were on it. He nodded.

“Very well. Welcome, Sister Celeste. Castellan Artus waits in his chambers.”

I continued up the ramp and into the landing ship. The cargo bay was huge, large enough to fit at least three Leman Russes across, and interminably long. There were many figures in powered armor walking this way and that, and twice as many servants and hangers-on. I recognized several uniforms of our own Planetary Defense Force, and walked over to them.

“Excuse me, soldier. I am looking for Brother Artus,” I said, approaching a thin man with a clean-shaven face, his eyes red and rheumy. He looked at me with confusion for a moment, and then understanding.  
“Ah yes, one of the Sisters are you? It’s a good thing you’re here too - Artus never seems to shut up about you all. His chambers are just through the cargo bay, and then a left, another left, a right, up a set of stairs, and then a left. You’ll know you’re there, trust me.” He nodded and moved on with his day. I was left a little bewildered by this man, who addressed me so casually. Still puzzled, I walked through the cargo bay trying my best to ignore the stares of the civilians as I passed. It would seem that seeing a Sister of Battle was unusual on this ship, although why that was a surprise to me I had no idea. Every Astarte gave me a nod or a good-day as I passed. I did my best to remain courteous and return the gesture, but being the focus of their gaze sent an involuntary shiver up my spine. Something about it wasn’t human anymore. I could feel it.

The path to Artus’ quarters was dimly lit, with pipes and wires running along the corridor. I began to feel almost claustrophobic, but finally I came upon the door. It was wide, and metal, and appeared to seal down the middle. It was inscribed with bas-reliefs of many different scenes of battle, all in gold filigree on the plasteel. Of the things I had seen on this ship, it was the first to give me any comfort. Seeing the might of the Emperor’s Angels, seeing them strike down the heretic and the mutant, seeing the devotion these beings had, all my fears had coalesced and turned into something approaching awe. I went up to the door and gave three sharp knocks. The doors opened, sliding out faster than I had anticipated and a waft of smoke and the smell of incense poured out of the room. It was pleasant - synth-myrrh, I believed. I heard soft hymns being played on some sort of vox-player, and saw the Castellan kneeling in front of an altar to the Emperor, dressed in simple robes. The altar was replete with gold symbols, the Aquila forming a shining halo around the head of an ikon of Our Lord on Terra. The ikon was surrounded with inscriptions from countless holy texts. Above the altar was mounted a massive powersword - far bigger than any I had ever seen. Its blade was pure black, and etched into the blade were the words “Ave Imperator”. It was illuminated from above, and the whole effect was angelic. Artus finished his prayers, lifting his shaved head. It was only then I noticed the distinct lack of furnishings in the room - no desk, no chairs, no bed. He turned towards me and sat cross-legged. 

“It’s a remnant of my homeworld,” he said as he looked into my eyes. “Please sit.”

I took up a spot across from him, leaving a respectful distance. He laughed.

“There is no need to be so timid. You can come closer.”

I scootched closer. He nodded and said, “back on my homeworld, we valued simplicity in our living, and gave all we could to Him on Terra. I’ve kept the habit.” He chuckled at his own statement.  
“Brother Artus, I am here to answer the summons -” I started, but he raised a hand to stop me.

“It is early yet, and I suspect the other Sisters will not arrive for some time. Let us get familiar, eh? Would you like some recaf?”

I stared, wide-eyed, at the Marine. Even sitting, he loomed over me. This was a Space Marine? Here, sitting on the ground, talking like two new friends?

“I-I suppose I would like a cup of recaf,” I said. He stood up, and walked over to a panel in the wall. He pressed a few runes, and came back and sat.

“A servant will be along shortly. I hope.” He smiled, awkwardly. I was puzzled, and it must have shown on my face because he then said, “my apologies, but it is rare that we have guests of the fairer sex. I am not sure how to proceed.”  
Was he… nervous about talking to a girl? I laughed. A deep, real laugh, from the belly. He smiled and laughed with me.

“You do not need to be so cautious around us women, Castellan. We’re only human,” I said.

“Yes,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye, “only human.” We sat in silence for a few minutes. The recaf arrived, and Artus handed me a cup. He sat back down and took a sip from his own mug.

“Do Astartes need recaf?” I asked.

“Technically, we don’t even need sleep,” he said, “but I just so happen to enjoy the taste. Of course, being a Castellan has its perks.” He winked at me. I nodded.

“But anyway, I want to know more about you. What’s your story, how did you become a Sororitas?”

I took another sip of my drink. It was warm, and flavorful. I suspected that the perks Artus mentioned included genuine recaf, and not the synthesized kind so common throughout the galaxy. I cleared my throat.

“Well, where should I begin?”

“Anywhere, I suppose,” he said with a sly grin.

I sighed. “I guess I’ll start at the very beginning. It’s as good a place as any to start. I was a foundling at the Progenium - the one on Circuitous Prime. The only parents I knew were the caretakers. I joined the Order when I was twelve as a novice, and then I came here. I’ve been here ever since, I suppose.”

He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. Was he judging me? Was he assessing my abilities?

“If we were playing a game of Tarot, you’d be losing the shirt off your back.” He said with a sly smile. I blushed.

“Am I really that easy to read?”

“Your confusion is palpable, Celeste. But it is no matter. I think that it is a lovely thing that you’re serving the Emperor like this. You’re probably wondering why I requested you personally.”

Up until now, I had assumed that we would only be making small talk until the other Sisters arrived. My eyes went wide, and Artus chuckled again.

“I picked you because when I saw you in the garden that day, I knew that you and I were kindred spirits. Your file only confirmed this. I know what it’s like to lose that which you love.” As he said this, his face darkened. I bit my tongue, wanting desperately to not be there right now. He continued.

“The Black Templars only recruit on worlds that they crusade on. I was eight when my homeworld was ravaged by the great traitor, Abaddon the Despoiler. It was right in the centre of the Gothic Sector. The Black Templars liberated it, and recruited me. My mother and father were dead, as were any relatives I could have gone to. I do not even remember their faces. I have lived nearly eight centuries now, and I do not know what ever became of it. And now we shall return.”

The silence that fell over us was palpable. I was about to say something when there was a knock at the door. Artus said “Enter!” in a clear, strong voice, and the door opened. In came four women, all in their finest robes. The first was a tall, slender woman with dark skin and close-cropped hair. She had several piercings in her ears and nose, and deep green eyes. Behind her was another woman, bulging with muscle. She was sporting a haircut I had seen on the youths of some hiveworlds, and it was dyed pink. The next was a woman who looked nearly exactly like all the propaganda I’d ever seen about the Adepta Sororitas, down to the white bob and the fleur-de-lys under her eye. I touched my own instinctively. Finally, the last person I’d expected but who I had most hoped to meet came in.

“Sister Celeste! It is good to see you again.” Ophelia said, smiling warmly. The other girls looked at her with quizzical expressions, and Artus said “You know each other?”

“We, uh, met the other day. At the feast.” I said, nervously.

“Ah, that is good. Glad to see the camaraderie has already started. Come in and sit down! You all are most welcome. Let’s all introduce ourselves before we get started.”

The other girls sat down, forming a semicircle around Artus. The one with the piercings spoke first.

“I am Sister Amicia, of the Convent of Tecara Sextus. I look forward to working with you.” She had a deep, husky voice, the kind of voice that could give orders.

“I’m Sele,” said the one with the muscles and pink hair. “I’m from Vaith.” She nodded, eying up Sister Amicia.

“I’m Resael, from Arnassus III, and I’m very glad to be here!” said the model Sister. She smiled brightly, and I wondered if there was anything anyone could do to dampen her spirit.

Then it was Ophelia’s turn. She smiled and said, “I’m Sister Ophelia. I’m from the Convent on Antomina, and I am still curious about why we, the Sisters of Battle, are body-guarding a Castellan of the Black Templars.”

Artos nodded. “All in due time, Ophelia. Celeste?”

I blushed a little, suddenly self-conscious about introducing myself to all of these new people.

“I’m, uh, Celeste. I’m from… well, here obviously. Lachrymose III. I look forward to working with you all.”

“Excellent,” Artos said, clapping his hands together. “Now that we are all here, let us go over what exactly I am doing with the five of you.” He stood, and went again over to the panel on the wall. He pressed a few runes, and a holoscreen descended from the ceiling, right in front of the altar. The lights dimmed, and he began to speak.

“Now, you are all aware that we are on an important mission - to break through the Cicatrix Maledictum and forge a path back to Holy Terra. This, of course, is the main goal of our Crusade. But there are many steps between here and there.” He gestured to the holoscreen, which displayed a map of the Gothic Sector. 

“Here is where we are,” he said as a red circle marked our position in the north-eastern quadrant of the sector. “And here is the rough path of the Crusade.” The map began to chart a course across several hundred stars, all heading towards the black area of the horrible gap of warpspace.

“Our first target is a planet called Rakis V. It is a small little world, desert mostly, with only a few major hive-cities on it. We should be able to liberate the planet in about six months. Of course, after we liberate the planet the Astra Militarum will remain to secure it fully. We are only there for the first phases of these liberations. Our main goal is to punch a hole straight through, leaving our ships and people a safe path to Terra. But there is a second goal - word has reached us, and no doubt has reached your Canonesses, that the Ultramarines have been stirring up a Crusade of their own. There is even rumor that the Primarch Roboute Guilliman is alive. They, however, are on the other side of the Great Rift. It is our duty to inspire the people of the Imperium that help is coming, and I fear that any progress that Guilliman may make will not be swift enough. My ship shall be leading the charge on these new worlds, and we shall be first on the ground. I thought it fitting to have an honor guard of Sororitas with me, so that the Angels of the Emperor and the Daughters of the Emperor could be seen side-by-side, giving some hope to the people of the Imperium. Perhaps word will reach those on the other side. I do not know.”

With that, he finished his speech, and retracted the holoscreen. He sat back down in front of us. We sat in silence for quite a while. Finally, Amicia spoke.

“If it is to inspire hope, I suppose I understand. Normal people look at you see an Angel, but also something alien. We are a more human face.”

We all looked at Amicia with bewilderment at her bluntness. I could tell by the expression on the others’ faces, however, that they were thinking it too. Artus laughed - a genuine laugh. Not a chuckle. It was a deep, brassy laugh, as if he had heard a battle-brother tell a particularly funny joke.

“Well I must say I admire your directness, Sister Amicia. Yes, it’s true. I am… rather inhuman, aren’t I? There’ve been a few Inquisitors I’ve met who’ve called me a mutant. But it is true - you five are a far better face of the Crusade than my old, scarred mug.” He chuckled at that, and the rest of us gave some uneasy laughter. Another servant came to the door, saying that our rooms were prepared. Artus dismissed us, and left us to follow the servant to our quarters.

**+++++++++**

It was, perhaps, the Emperor’s will that put me in this situation. Perhaps it was just an accident. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was sabotage. We were lead to our quarters - and given two suites. The servant said that three of us were assigned to one, while the other two were assigned to the other. I was, of course, assigned the double. With Ophelia.

The suite as we entered it was spacious - more spacious than any simple quarters I had ever lived in. It was, more or less, its own hab unit. At the front was an open living room and dining area - although we were unlikely to cook. There was a short hallway, with two rooms on either side and a bath at the end.

“I call dibs on the one on the left,” Ophelia said, smiling at me with an impish grin. Her eyes sparkled in the light, and I nodded my head. At this point, I couldn’t put words in my mouth let alone come up with a reasonable response. Non-verbal communication only. I decided to investigate the bath - and was surprised to find a tiled room, with a very large tub along one wall. The lavatory and sink were dedicated to their own small cubicle off to the right, while the rest of the room seemed to be dedicated to showering. I had never seen a bath like this.  
“Oh, this is lovely,” Ophelia said, appearing behind me. I stiffened, partially in surprise and partially because of how close she was to me. “It’s a Rakan style bath - I’ve seen one like this before, but to actually be able to use it…” her voice trailed off. She walked to her room and shut the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. This was going to be more difficult than I thought.

My room was enormous - and the furniture was of the finest quality. Finer than anything I’d ever seen. The bed was large enough to fit three people, and had four posters and curtains all around. There was a vanity along one wall, and a closet bigger than my cell at the convent. What sort of place was this? I would need to ask Artus later. Though it was only mid-day, Artus hadn’t given us any further instruction and so I decided to relax in my new environment. I flopped down on the bed, and found myself sinking deeply into the mattress. It smelled clean, of linen, of soap. It was fresh. It was relaxing.

I woke what must have been a few hours later. I was disoriented and jumped to my feet, afraid that I had fallen asleep on duty. I remembered where I was, and thanked the Emperor that I was allowed to be relaxing. Today had already been so stressful. I opened my door - similar in construction to Artus’, but less ornate, and was met face-to-face with a wet, mostly naked Ophelia. I say mostly naked because all she had on was a towel.. Water ran in rivulets down her neck, her shoulders, her hair still wet from the shower. She gave a small start when she saw me, and then smiled.  
“Just tested out the bath. It’s amazing! And soaking in the tub is so relaxing. You should try it!” she said, seeming to take no notice about how much steam was pouring out of my ears. I nodded again. She went into her room. I clutched my chest and leaned into the wall, sinking to the floor. This was going to be really hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was fun to write. it was also very hard to write. i've been struggling for the past couple weeks to get anything down, but I hope that this is good. i'm enjoying Celeste's whole characterization, and I hope to have more good character interaction in the coming chapters.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my work! I'd really appreciate it if you commented and let me know what you think. I'm also always looking for beta readers, so if you're interested feel free to message me!


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